There once was a Princess journeyed through time

There once was a Princess journeyed through time
faces were endless filled with strife and crime
she kept focus ahead forged on moved up
a familiar at her side soulmate super intelligent pup
swore this would be the last the best incarnation of them all
but now has slightly faltered a loosened grasp trying not to fall
Not known as easily approachable and a sucker she never did make
her soul enjoyed the giving her mates perfected the take
saw the good in every man no matter how deeply it dwelt
each one did wear her down until like shyte she mostly felt
get back up dust back off turn into a tough bitch again
then fall prey to fiendish 2-legged creatures referred to as men

Bottoms up!

Why sir thou has an awfully nice bottom by the way.


  1. It has historically been easy for men to be "sexists."

    Perhaps way back in the beginning where the toughest dude became king it was originally a simple matter of having more physical power. Men are bigger and stronger, as a rule, than women.

    As in all matters human, he has merely taken advantage of that. And has clung to that edge. The drive toward power may be primitive, but because it is doesn't mean it doesn't still motivate us. That should be obvious.

    There exceptions, of course.

    I don't know what to do about sexism. In the war between the sexes we still have far to go. I try to improve though for me, at least, it is a long hard slog. My lack of vision, my own inherent foolishness, my limitations are an impediment.

    It's good to be humble, cautious, and to refrain from, as a rule, sweeping condemnations. Or to at least offer strangers the benefit of the doubt. An act of "gratuitous kindness" can momentarily relieve a stranger from carrying a great weight. If you haven't done so, try it.

    There is nothing more superficial than the opinions strangers have of one another on the street. I'm guilty, of course, of all of this. In my own defense all I can say is that at least I try.

  2. Not to hijack your comment section Jin. I just received an invitation to contribute to this nice blog but I'd never visited here before. I wanted to make sure it fit with my style and not hamper or offend anyone that's already a contributor. Any input would be appreciated so I don't step on any toes or cause any aggravation. Aside from what I normally cause. Thank you.

  3. @Quinty-

    Oh goodness I didn't mean for this to come off as too negative! I like men! Too much it seems. I'm far too easygoing at times when I can't really afford to be. I don't want to come off as whiny either.. heehee! Just felt this poem was not appropriate to post at any of my own blogs at this particular point in time.

    Now... buy the lady a nice glass of red, would you? ;-)

  4. @TRUTH 101

    No worries sir! If I may share a little secret: I had never visited this charming bar before I found a jinvite in my very own email. Oh & am I glad I accepted! 'Tis a delightful group of patrons that visit here. I wish I could spend more time conversing over cocktails... ahhh... maybe in future.

    I'm sure if you were invited here that your style has already been accepted. I think we are a hard bunch to offend anyhow. ;-)

  5. I love that first line, which maybe jin meant to be the title too: classic. This lament truly is meant for in here, and I understand how it might not fit as well out on blogs about pastry and family matters.

    Well, let me not call it a lament...because jin sees it as positive, and I see that too. It's that pick-yourself-up, see-the-good...and the HUMOR---those are the attributes that save us, that get us to work in the morning no matter how Blue the night before.

    That's us, here at The Wulfshead. Perhaps it's an attitude the good Concierge has seen and looked for in the membership. My heart goes out to jin and her struggles...but she is a Princess! No doubt about it.

    Bartender, one of jin's eclairs for everyone in the house! On my tab, please.

  6. Ah, heck, Jin.... I just suspected you may have alluded to some of the sexist comments I (and a few other gents) have, from time to time, made here.

    That's how it works, doesn't it?

    Let me compare myself to Joseph Stalin? (Look, let's not be chintzy here!)

    His crimes probably started out small. Street corner stuff, brushes with the law. Gang fights. He became marked, wanted, was chased by Interpol (did it exist them?) Killed a few people on the way. Knew the world was out to get him.

    In the beginning he was simply caught up in the whirlwind of events, the tenor of the times. He sought power. In order to obtain it he needed to bump off a few people. That's when it really started. The paranoia, that is. The belief everyone out there was just like him and he had to get them first. Before they could get him.

    That's just the way the world worked. And he would be on top.

    He gained supreme power. Became boss of the whole country. That made him the target of millions. Millions out there were out to get him. So he put them into concentration camps, shot them, murdered millions wholesale. Because if he didn't they would do that to him. They all thought the same way.

    So he projected himself onto the entire country, saving, perhaps, an ideal vision of the Soviet Union. The one he told himself he fought for. A beautiful place where sheep could safely graze. But in a world of dog eat dog he had to be firm, hard, and relentless. Not only for himself but for all the good he could bring. That's the way it was.

    And, oddly enough, millions of Russians saw him as the "little father," just as they had the tsar. And told themselves that if Stalin only knew, if somebody only told him, all these crimes, outrages, horrors all around them would come to an end. For Uncle Joe wouldn't put up with them, permit them. If only he knew.

    So that is a macro version of me. The big time. Mine was just a few tiny sexist comments. So I became suspicious. And saw into what you said things which didn't exist. I became the Sara Palin of Rhode Island. The Rush Limbough of the East, projecting. Fantasies and nightmares, consumed in guilt. A monster in the making. Close to insanity. Tortured by an existential knot far removed from any normal peace or serenity. The blessings of the world. A would be Doestoevsky.

    Though I should retract what I said about Palin. She's nor bright enough to foster any elaborate paranoid fantasies. She just believes the packaged nightmares others feed her. She is mastering her new role, if you happened to see her in Hong Kong, and heard the remarks she made. Straight out of the cookie cutter. With a glossy smile. Very weird, but normal, I suppose, for her.

    I hope I made a few things absolutely clear here. Anyone have a spare eclair?

  7. I decided to stop in for a drink Jin. I'll sit here in the corner and soak up some good conversation for awhile.

    Nice place.

  8. @Jazzy

    Ahhh... you are a sweet one. You knew where that came from as you know where I am. Still am. *sigh* One step backward last week with the current. Funny thing though... remember my friend? He is making his presence know TRIFOLD. Not to me... to the current.

    He is a truly nice guy, the current, he really is. Nicest I've been with. But, alas... I have grown weary of carrying us this long. Weary. That's how I feel this past week. I suppose that's why I popped round here again. I always feel relaxed here... hmmmm... is that the company or the alcohol?

  9. @Quinty

    Sexist? You gents? Nahhhhhh.

    Anyway, I freely admit that I do belong in the kitchen. It is my place. ;-)

    Here... let me get you that eclair. Bon Appetit!

  10. @TRUTH 101

    Sit back & relax. I'll send the bartender over to take your order & here are some pastries to nibble on while you wait. Glad you stopped by again! :-)

  11. Bartender, would you bring jin one of my special currant daiquiris please?

    Sweet one, you might consider trading in the currents for some nice presents.

  12. Alright, I suppose I must admit to my ignorance:
    currant daiquiri?
    What exactly is hidden within that one could trade for presents?

    As a completely unrelated side note: I currently smell like gingerbread. MMMMmmmmmmm.... ;-D

  13. OK, it was a play on words. Your "current," get it? Currants? "Present" is a synonym for "current." This is a literary crowd, honey.

    However, we do respond to sensory suggestion! Yummy to the gingerbread. Mouth watering, tongue in motion. Ah, if I were only 50 years younger, I'd come up there to offer stupefying courtship...and solve all the problems.

  14. Well I was sure your dual spelling of currant/current wasn't a typo. I figured that much... and I work with currants all the time so, unfortunately, all I could envision was those floating around in a drink. It made me think of rodent scat. Then I just couldn't analyze any longer. Ha! My mind works jin mysterious ways dear sir.

    Oh and a P.S. (!) Am I the only one that noticed the disappearing post up above?!!? I quite liked it... just didn't get the opportunity to comment before it went *POUF*.

  15. You see what it's like to compliment the pastry chef? Come on to her, and you get compared to rodent scat. Actually, we could blend those currants into a tangy froth. It might not be a bad drink.

    The PS: yes, me too. It was by Nausicaa, wasn't it?

  16. My comment still is over there~~~

    On Sep 27 jazzolog commented on there once was princess

    It hangs lifeless upon the ether.